


Sacred Duties

by greenbucket



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 11:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbucket/pseuds/greenbucket
Summary: “Are you an angel?” the guy asks, awestruck.“Nope,” says Bully.





	Sacred Duties

**Author's Note:**

> Shitty had flow, Bully has flow. And so this fic was born.

Bully is feeling a little worse for wear, but all around not too bad for having partied into the early hours of the morning. He can only guess he passed out for a couple hours on the front steps to the Haus because that’s where he is when he forces his eyes open. On the bad side it means his head is pounding and his neck has a crick that’s gonna take some fucking work to get rid of, but at least the temperatures hadn’t dropped too low in the night so all his fingers and toes are still working, and his balls haven’t dropped off.

It’s still pretty early, the sky only starting to get light above the houses and the birds still a little sleepy, but Bully deeply feels he could do with a handful or two of dry cereal and a glass of water, so he decides to make his way quietly inside.

There’s a fair amount of people sleeping in awkward, probably-painful places and a shitload of cans to be cleared up; it makes for tricky navigating, especially since Bully isn’t sure he’s quite sober yet.

There’s also a dude sitting at the kitchen table, eyes bloodshot to fuck either from weed or lack of sleep or both, seemingly naked from what Bully can see. Bully stops still, almost kicking over a stack of empty beers in a surprise. Dude’s got a pretty impressive moustache situation going on, and Bully opens his mouth to say so, but before he can the guy is snapping out of his alcohol-weed-sleep-deprivation haze and fixing Bully with a look of complete wonder.

“Are you an angel?” the guy asks, awestruck.

“Nope,” says Bully.

Moving as if in a trance, the guy gets up from his chair and moves towards Bully’s side of the table. He doesn’t have the same care for lack of noise, but no one stirs. Bully had also taken a half second to prepare himself for an unexpected dick sighting, but the guy turns out to be wearing jean shorts; they say ‘booty’ across the crotch in purple sequins, and the lettering is suddenly right in Bully’s face when the guy gets unsteadily onto one of the kitchen chairs nearest.

“Bro,” the dude says, almost tearful, and reaches to sink his hands into Bully’s hair. Bully blinks at the guy’s crotch, and the guy continues, “Like, fully fucking tell me if I’m overstepping into your personal space here and shit but your _flow_. It is a motherfucking _beaut_. It’s a masterpiece, an art form, a– would you let my best lady bro friend braid it? Please?”

“Uh,” says Bully. “Sure, I guess? I don’t really think it’s long enough to braid, though, man.”

The dude massages Bully’s scalp a little, eyes shut and expression blissful when Bully peers upward, and Bully can get behind that. It takes the edge of his headache a bit, even if it’s just temporary.

“No, no, no, she’s a fucking artist, brah. Works with all kinds of multimedia shit and this fucking flow deserves to be– to be _immortalised_ , to be appreciated for the fuck you to the man it is. The dedication, the belief, the entire aesthetic _concept_.”

“Thanks,” says Bully. Maintaining a flow is more work than people think, and it’s nice to be appreciated, even if it’s by some random dude.

“No, thank _you_ ,” says the dude. “You’re carrying on my sacred duties, brah. There must always be one bearer of the flow on this team. I, Shitty Knight, once made it my solemn task and I have gotta fucking say, you are doing a majestic job now I’m gone.” He leans down and kisses Bully on the top of the head, which is chill, then breathes in deep. “You smell like tub juice. Good shit.”

Bully shrugs. “Yeah, well. It’s pretty potent stuff, dude.” He vaguely remembers a Shitty being mentioned, and he’s happy to take on the mantel of flow-bearer, if only… “Hey, could you get me a handful of cereal? Cupboard to your left.”

“It would be my fucking honour,” says Shitty and then he takes one hand out of Bully’s hair to rummage in the cupboard, teetering dangerously on the chair, and then presents a handful down to Bully to eat. It’s kind of like holding out food to a horse, or like a deer or something. Bully can dig it; saves lifting his own arms, anyway.

“Thanks, man.”

Shitty massages Bully’s scalp and runs his fingers through Bully’s hair one last time, then gets down from the chair with a sigh.

Bully looks down at him. For the former bearer of flow duties, this Shitty guy doesn’t have much impressive going on anymore; run of the mill shortish cut, a little messy after a good party. He also looks a bit cold, and tired, but in a mostly happy way. “You good?” Bully asks just in case.

“Jesus God I am fucked,” Shitty says, sitting down like his joints ache. “I’m going to need to nap so hard.”

Bully tells him, “Green couch was free when I saw it. It’s not a bad place to catch some Z’s.”

Shitty stares at him hard a moment, and then says, “You know what, brah? I can respect that. Challenge accepted.”

Bully watches Shitty zig-zag towards the living room, somehow managing not to walk into anyone but kick every beer can in his way. The clattering ends with the groan of the couch’s springs, and Shitty swearing as he gets comfortable. Bully doesn’t get what people hate about the couch; Chowder had shown him how to get comfy on it and avoid the most sticky or rash-inducing patches. But maybe that’s just a secret between them, which is a nice thought.

Eating another handful of dry cereal, Bully thinks to himself that even though every team he’s been with has had a few eccentric types, Samwell seems to have a higher proportion than any other. It’s got some weird traditions, too – like, Bully had been put on post-kegster megaphone duties last night. And some alumni called Shitty has just fed him cereal and stroked his hair while his crotch was in Bully’s face.

But Bully is kind of looking forward to using the megaphone in a bit, and his head is feeling a little better from the massage, and Chowder is out there teaching him secret cheats, and so far Samwell and the team have been pretty awesome – swawesome, even – so Bully figures he can roll with it.


End file.
